


Life-Expectancy

by LastHope



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Character Death, Off-screen death, Old!Characters, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastHope/pseuds/LastHope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all, no one knew a dragon's life-expectancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life-Expectancy

**Author's Note:**

> This was asked as a prompt for a Fic War on Tumblr, and I obliged.

            No one knew for sure what the life-expectancy of a dragon was. Was it only a few years? Was it centuries? Considering the life most of them had lived prior to the switch from pest to pet on Berk, Hiccup had at least known that dying early was job hazard, similar to the Vikings.

            Still, growing up as the “Dragon Tamer/Conqueror”, Hiccup had taken it upon himself to at least attempt to record the life-spans of the dragons on Berk.

            Terrible Terrors, generally lived at least twenty-five years, sometimes thirty. The first domestic Terror they had died shortly after Hiccup turned forty. As one of the Terrors that had originated from the Dragon Nest shortly after the death of the Red Death, the Vikings of Berk had been unsure whether the Terror lived longer before settling on Berk, or if the expectancy of a Terror was so short.

            Gronckles lived longer than Terrible Terrors, by at least double the lifespan, if not more. Fishlegs had died in a boating accident (of all things) when he was sixty, and Meatlug had followed the morning of Fishlegs funeral. To this day no one was sure whether it was because of old age or a broken heart that the Gronckle had died. Hiccup had marked a minimum fifty year life expectancy for Gronckles and tried not to dwell on it.

            Monstrous Nightmares lived at least sixty-five years, as Hookfang, like Meatlug, had followed Snotlout shortly after he died. Zipplebacks had about the same as a Monstrous Nightmare, Barf and Belch passing shortly after Ruff and Tuff. Deadly Nadders lived at least seventy. Astrid had passed away not even two months ago, but Stormfly had yet to follow her rider. She had a distinct lack of the normal hop in her step that the Nadder normally had, but she still squawked with her usual tone whenever someone was late with her food.

            Eighty years old himself, Hiccup also had a distinct ‘lack of the normal hop’ in his step, as each day it became more difficult for him to walk, especially with his fake leg. He still went about his normal business, which these days mainly consisted of feeding Stormfly and Toothless, and taking walks around the village with assistance from one of the two. Hiccup wasn’t strong enough anymore to cart one, let alone two, baskets of fish up from the docks like he used to be able to in order to feed the dragons, but some of the kids in the village would normally lug two baskets up to his house for him, and then it would be up to Hiccup to feed the bossy dragons that lazed about his house.

            Toothless and Stormfly didn’t go out flying as much as they used to. It was something that Hiccup attributed to both what he presumed was their old age, and Hiccup and Astrid’s old age. He supposed that after so many years flying with someone on their back, it was a bit difficult for them to get used to flying without a near-constant presence on their back. Even when presented the opportunity for a younger member of the village to take either of the dragons out flying, they turned up their snouts and just nested up wherever they were, refusing to move.

            Once upon a time Toothless hadn’t been able to fly without someone steering his tail, but as Hiccup got older, and as he pulled more dangerous and stupid stunts, Astrid had bullied him into making a tail that Toothless could use to fly on his own. It had taken some convincing on Hiccup’s part to get the dragon to accept and use the damn thing, but he eventually had managed it.

            Still, even if Stormfly and Toothless weren’t flying as much anymore, Toothless was at least up and about most of the time. Hiccup would wake up in the morning to Stormfly’s squawks for food, and Toothless would be awake making a mess out by the hearth. Most nights, really, if the dragons weren’t sleeping outside, one or both of them would be curled by the hearth.

            This morning, however, was different. Hiccup woke up to the normal squawking by Stormfly, and he could hear a couple of the village kids running around outside. When he came out to living space of his too-big house, there was a distinct lack of Night Fury curled by the hearth. Now, this wasn’t too unusual but there was an odd emptiness that filled the house with the feeling that something was different this time.

            Stormfly was still squawking though, and no matter how different this felt without Toothless there, Hiccup still had a duty to feed the dragons- even if one of them were missing.

            Making his slow way across the room, he opened the door just in time to nearly run into someone who was about to knock on his door. It was Bjorn, one of the kids who normally brought up the baskets of fish for Toothless and Stormfly. Normally an extremely confident boy, both on land and in the air, he seemed uncharacteristically nervous this morning.

“Ah!” He seemed surprised that Hiccup opened the door before he was ready. “E-Elder Hiccup! Funny seeing you here this morning!”

“Oh yes,” Hiccup responded, easing his way around the young boy. “Funny seeing me at my own house! Was there something you needed, Bjorn?” Looking out directly by the door, there was no sign of either of the baskets that boy could have brought up for the dragons.

            “I’m guessing it wasn’t to tell me that you brought up the fish for the dragons,” Hiccup looked at Bjorn.

            “Oh, n-no!” Bjorn answered. “We brought up the fish. Calder is feeding Stormfly right now, a-actually.” Come to think of it, there was the distinct lack of squawking from said dragon, so that was a clear indicator that somebody had to have fed her.

            “Well that’s very nice of you, but you really didn’t have to do that.” Hiccup thanked him. “There’s still enough movement in these old bones to feed a couple dragons.”

            “Oh it’s nothing,” Calder bounded around from the side of the house. “Especially seeing as- oof.” Whatever Calder had been about to say was abruptly cut off when Bjorn firmly planted his elbow in Calder’s diaphragm.

            “Especially seeing as what?” Those boys were up to something, and Hiccup wasn’t sure if it was something good.

            “N-Nothing!” Bjorn stammered at the same time Calder hissed at the other,

            “You didn’t tell him?”

            “How was I supposed to tell him?”

            “You know, give him the honey and the hatchet!”

            “Tell me _what_ exactly?” Hiccup cut into the whispered conversation.

            “It’s Toothless!” Calder all but yelped before getting another helping of elbow driven into his diaphragm. “ _For Thor’s sake!”_

            “What about Toothless?” Hiccup could feel dread clogging his throat.

            “You idiots, did you get the Elder or not?” A feminine voice shouted, running up to join the trio. Another of the village kids, it was Alva who joined the threesome. Hiccup remembered her because she was one of the few that Stormfly would allow to take her flying on the occasions that she did go out.

            “Get me for what, exactly?” Hiccup was getting slightly miffed that nobody was telling him anything. He was old, not deaf.

            “You haven’t told him?” Alva looked at Calder and Bjorn incredulously.

            “Loki, curse the next one to ignore me when I ask _what is going on?_ ” Hiccup scolded the three, exasperated. They all shared a look, uncertain as to whether they should answer or not. At long last, it was Alva who spoke up.

            “Well, you see Elder,” She started to say, when Bjorn cut her off.

            “Alva are you sure?”

            “Well you gave him the honey already, right? Time for the hatchet.”

            Hiccup was starting to get impatient.

            “Maybe it would, uh, be easier for you to see for yourself, Elder Hiccup.” Calder finally said for the three kids.

            “Alright.” Hiccup conceded. “Let’s get going then.”

            “Alright,” The three kids said in unison. Alva elbowed Bjorn in the ribs.

            “Call Fireworm and Windwalker.” She told the boy, who did as he was told.

            “Your dragons?” Hiccup was slightly confused. “Why do we need your dragons?”

            “It’ll be quicker to get there,” Alva replied. “If, um, you don’t mind Elder.”

            “No, it’s quite alright, seeing as the quicker we get wherever ‘there’ is, the quicker someone tells me what in Thor’s name is going on.” Alva and Calder shared a wince before Bjorn approached with the two dragons.

            Fireworm was Bjorn’s dragon, a beautiful female Monstrous Nightmare. She had fiery spirit that reminded Hiccup of Hookfang’s early days. Windwalker was Alva’s dragon, and was very simply, a younger version of Stormfly. Just as beautiful and vain, but also very temperamental. A good match for Alva.

            “Ready to go?” Calder was seated on Windwalker, and Alva had managed to coax out Stormfly and get on her. It appeared that they were just waiting for Hiccup to mount Fireworm with Bjorn to get going. He obliged, and they were flying through the air.

            It was a sensation that Hiccup secretly missed not being able to do as often as he could anymore. Really, it was only instances like this where he could fly, because it wasn’t safe for older members of the village like him to go flying, especially not on old dragons like Stormfly or Toothless. Looking over at Stormfly though, it seemed she was appreciating the opportunity to go flying, and Alva seemed at ease on the dragon’s back despite Stormfly not being her own.

            It did not take too long for Hiccup to recognize where the trio was flying toward. There was a throbbing in his ears that he was fairly certain was his heartbeat, beating far too loudly. Within minutes they were landing down in the cove, and just on the other side of the shore, he could see a familiar black form on the smooth rock that he had first slept on so many years ago.

            “Do you think we should have told him before we got here?” One of the kids whispered behind his back, but Hiccup didn’t catch it as he called out,

            “Toothless!”

            But the shape on the rock didn’t move.

            “Come on bud, can’t you hear me?” He moved closer, trying to tell himself it was unsurprising that Toothless hadn’t responded. Going deaf in his old age, really, he could use echolocation but this wasn’t closed off enough.

            Hiccup was closer.

            “Toothless, wake up!” He shouted again, and nothing. There was a burning in his eyes that he did not want to attribute to tears even though he knew that that was what it was. He was standing by Toothless now.

            “Come on you useless reptile, wake up!” He put his hands on Toothless, and scales that were normally pleasantly warm were frighteningly cold.

            Tears were falling down his cheeks now, and he could tell without seeing that the children were shifting uncomfortably behind him.

            “You stupid dragon,” Hiccup sobbed into the Night Fury’s hide. “You weren’t supposed to die before me.”

-

It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right. Hiccup wasn’t supposed to be present at his dragon’s funeral, watching other Vikings place Toothless’ body into the boat that would take him off to the afterlife for dragons. None of the others had been present for their dragon’s funerals, so why should Hiccup be the only one?

Truth be told, he felt numb. He had cried his heart out over Toothless’ corpse yesterday in the cove before Alva, Bjorn, and Calder had escorted him back to Berk, Windwalker carrying Toothless’ body back with them. The evening had been a flurry of getting preparations ready for the Night Fury’s funeral, and before Hiccup knew it, it was this morning.

It wasn’t right.

Alva had taken care of feeding Stormfly this morning.

He wouldn’t wake up to Toothless at the hearth anymore.

He wouldn’t have Toothless as a constant presence by his side anymore.

He was gone.

And Hiccup hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

It wasn’t right.

-

            At first, everyone had been in a panic when Elder Hiccup hadn’t been in his house that morning. No one knew where the Elder could have gone, and it wasn’t normal for him to have just vanished like that.

            It was Alva who thought to check the cove. She was the one who bullied Bjorn and Calder into coming with her, because she knew. Even though Alva wouldn’t admit it, she knew what they were going to find.

            They landed to the same scene that they had brought Elder Hiccup to not even three days past. Bjorn and Calder were shocked, but Alva couldn’t bring herself to feel the same. It was to be expected, she told herself.

            She kept telling herself that as she coaxed Stormfly away from the Elder’s house, and into following her to where she kept Windwalker.

            It was simply to be expected.

            No one knew a dragon’s life-expectancy, after all.


End file.
